


Arise, Lieutenant

by falindis



Series: Into This Wild Abyss [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Balrogs, Blowjobs, Humiliation, Illusionist in training, M/M, Mairon gets a promotion, Melkor has very questionable teaching methods, Melkor is an exhibitionist, Mighty Arises Indeed, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orcs, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Spit As Lube, Telepathy, Throne Sex, Utumno, Utumnobang, Years of the Trees, angbang, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24420859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falindis/pseuds/falindis
Summary: "You think is is over, do you not? No. Our audience is yet to arrive, after all."Melkor informs all of Utumno of Mairon's promotion to High Commander of Angband. To Mairon's thrill and terror, the announcement comes with a twist that poses a challenge even to the most skilled illusionist.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: Into This Wild Abyss [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742446
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Arise, Lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

> One of the smuttiest works I have ever written. Continues the tale of Forged in Fire, Touched by Ice and its subsequent works, although can also act as a one-shot. Sorry Tolkien.

Mairon quickly rose up in the hierarchy of Utumno.

His handiwork was appreciated by all, and in no time, he became the chief smith of the entire fortress. He crafted new types of weapons and armor, improved the fortifications and constructed repairs where he saw fit. Soon Melkor began to see his larger potential for infrastructural design, and he named Mairon his chief architect for his new stronghold in the south, Angband. So Mairon got to work in drawing the blueprints, and often he and Melkor would travel south together to oversee the construction. It was after one of those travels that Melkor called Mairon to his throne room on an urgent matter.

“My lord”, Mairon greeted, lowering to one knee in front of his master. “You summoned me.”

“Yes”, Melkor replied. He looked glorious on his throne, clad in the midnight-black suit of armor Mairon had built him, a thin iron circlet above his head. Seeing him like this made Mairon’s chest burst with pride. He served a magnificent being indeed. “A report arrived today from the south. The construction of Angband is nearly complete. And now, I need someone to command it.”

Mairon bowed his head in agreement. “Excellent news, my lord. Would you wish for me to draft a potential list of candidates?”

“No. I have already made my decision.” Melkor’s eyes were practically pinned on Mairon, unblinking. Mairon recognized that look. Dread started to coil around his stomach.

“Me, master?” he tried his hardest to conceal the shaking of his voice. “May I ask why?”

“You are the most capable being for this job. You have showed your loyalty again and again. Your attention to detail is sublime. Your underlings admire and respect you, both those that I have turned, and you have created. Is that praise enough, my Maia?”

Although Mairon knew he should have been beaming with pride, he was not. On the contrary. This was what he had been dreading all along.

“You… would send me away?”

Melkor let out a deep sigh. Something dark crossed his eye – anger – no – _disappointment?_

“Come closer”, he ordered.

Mairon obeyed. He stopped a good five steps away from the throne, trembling in the light of the Vala’s gaze.

“Even closer.”

Mairon did. He was close enough to almost touch his master now.

“Do not be afraid. Come now. Sit.”

Melkor patted the armrest of his throne, and Mairon blushed, as he understood what his master was implying. “But… there is only one throne.”

“And? I told you to sit, Mairon.”

Mairon’s blush deepened as he gingerly took his seat upon the armrest of the throne. In so doing, he felt Melkor’s arm wrap around him and pull him to his lap. Mairon gasped when he felt the cool touch of Melkor’s hand glide across his hips, wriggle their way under his robes.

“Master…” Mairon panted, his eyes darting nervously across the empty throne room, to the open hallway just behind it. “Not here…”

“Not here? To my last account, _I_ ruled here. I will do this where I wish, regardless of the protests of my subjects.”

“No…” Mairon’s cheeks were already bright red, sweat beading on his forehead. His perfect composure was gone, and Melkor had barely touched him yet. He could not be seen this way in front of their subjects, it was humiliating. “Please, my lord…”

“Embarrassed of being watched? You’re just going to have to keep your cool better than this.”

Mairon drew deep inward breaths. Melkor was correct. This was a shameful performance. Mairon could do better, he knew he could. He had become better in his shapeshifting recently. Before he had only been capable of transforming single elements of his being at a time – his voice, his eyes, the color of his hair – but now he knew how to craft entire illusions, conjuring sights and sounds where there were none. He could surely manage this.

He concentrated.

“Mmh”, Melkor hummed in satisfaction, feeling Mairon’s _fëa_ resonating against his. “There it is.”

“I live to please, master.” Mairon’s _fána_ was trembling, but his spell held, and to the outside observer his expression appeared perfectly casual. 

“Good. Very good.” Melkor’s hands had now found their way onto Mairon’s lower back, the ridges of his stomach. Suddenly he froze momentarily, as if a thought had occurred. Then, Mairon _heard_ him smile and draw a deep breath, before he called out in a loud voice: “Gothmog!”

Mairon blanched. “Master?”

Melkor’s laugh rumbled against Mairon’s back. “Consider this as an exercise.”

Mairon swallowed, struggling to steady his heartbeat as the telltale glow of Gothmog appeared in the hallway. The lord of balrogs was clothed in dark, hellish flame, licking his entire body in ever-moving patterns. His eyes were a pair of white suns, and the air around him shimmered with an intense heat.

Yet Mairon managed to hold his illusion in front of the sprite, despite him being of almost equal power. The balrog showed no signs of visible discomfort at the sight, or then he just did not care. He simply bowed at the throne and hailed his master, his voice a crackle of flame.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Gather the balrogs and the orc commanders”, Melkor ordered. All the while his hands were still drawing circles on Mairon’s stomach, tantalizingly close to a line of no return. “I have an announcement to make.”

_No,_ Mairon protested internally. One balrog he could still handle, but _all_ of them? His spell would be broken, and he would be humiliated in front of all Utumno. Just the thought made him momentarily lose concentration, and a quizzical look flared in Gothmog’s eyes. Mairon collected himself quickly, reassembling the spell, and sighing in relief. Gothmog questioned them no further, and turned around to execute his order.

“Impressive”, Melkor whispered in Mairon’s ear once Gothmog had left. His cold breath on Mairon’s skin made the hairs on his neck stand upright. “But it is time to turn up the heat. Strip.”

_What?_

_No, no, no –_ he couldn’t do it – he wouldn’t do it –

Melkor dragged his fingers on Mairon’s thigh –

he _had_ to do it.

“Yes, master.” And with a flick of Mairon’s hand, the robes serving as only protection between him and Melkor were gone. He was completely bare now, save for the golden circlet on top of his head. Melkor practically purred in satisfaction, nuzzling Mairon’s neck and breathing in his scent. His rough grip lifted Mairon into a better position onto his lap, from which Mairon became alert of a sensation against his lower thigh.

His master was hard. Very hard.

Mairon swallowed. He was aware of a great deal of things now – the urgency, the publicity – and not only Melkor’s arousal, but his own erection as well, painfully untouched. Melkor’s fingers still ghosted on his lower belly, his other hand lightly cupping his ass, but still merely teasing, toying with him. He wanted nothing more than to submit to his master: to worship his body with his hands and his tongue, to indulge in his deepest wants and desires. But the mere knowledge of being caught at any moment froze him in place, unable to do anything but stare helplessly at the door.

“They will come soon”, Melkor muttered against his neck. “I suggest you make haste.”

Mairon sucked in a breath and set to unclasping his master’s armor. Melkor’s full-on erection met his hand almost immediately, almost indistinguishable from the metal in its hardness. At Mairon’s hot touch Melkor _moaned,_ a low, guttural sound echoing through the entire hall. There was no way that it had gone unheard.

“You have to keep quiet, master”, Mairon scolded, wrapping both of his hands around Melkor’s member. Usually he enjoyed to play with his balls and tease at his slit, but not this time. Mairon simply went hard to work, fervently moving his hands up and down his master’s thick length, adding heat from his _fëa_ for extra friction. Melkor growled again, louder, entirely uncaring whether he was heard or not.

“Not so hard, Mairon”, he schooled his apprentice. “If it is pain that I want, you will surely know. Now is not the time.”

Mairon blushed in earnest. “I apologize, master, I had not meant to hurt—"

“You must atone for your insubordination.” Suddenly Melkor pushed Mairon violently off his lap, causing his lieutenant to stumble and fall on the stone before him. Mairon scrambled to get up, to turn towards the door, but Melkor forced his head down to meet with his groin. Mairon gasped in horror.

“No, master… I need to see…”

“You need to see nothing.” Melkor pushed Mairon’s head down even further, and Mairon was forced to take Melkor in his mouth, lest he suffocate. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It felt like a strange dream, something unreal. “Are you not a Maia? You have grown too attached to this body, to your mortal senses.”

Melkor was once again correct. Mairon was a spirit – he needed no physical form to see. It took some concentration from him – it had been a while since he last left his corporeal form – but he managed to do it. While closing his eyes he managed to conjure an image of the room beneath his eyelids, knowing perfectly whether someone was to enter or not. Meanwhile, Mairon’s hot lips curled around his master, drawing waves of pleasure from him, crashing upon Mairon’s _fëa_ like the ocean.

“Yes”, Melkor hissed, adding pressure on his hand to guide Mairon all the way down. His cock slid deep into Mairon’s throat, and although Mairon’s physical form felt the need to gag, he had detached himself from his body enough to suppress the urge. His tongue licked his master’s member lavishly, while his hollowed-out cheeks added to the eager suction that enveloped Melkor in a hot, tightening embrace. Mairon surrendered himself to it, bobbing his head up and down to meet the light thrusts stroking at his throat.

“Ah…” Melkor groaned. “Lieutenant…”

Mairon felt a familiar vibration against his own _fëa,_ accompanied with the telltale constriction of Melkor’s balls. It would not be long now, he knew it. So he allowed himself to forget, no longer suppressing the dirty sounds echoing from his own mouth, doing anything to make his master come faster. Using a pinch of concentration, Mairon sent out waves of illusion towards Melkor’s direction, conjuring memories and images of his master taking him every way possible, fingering and chocking and whipping him, sucking and kissing and fucking him—

—and then, with a magnificent growl, Melkor _came._

His seed spilled hot inside Mairon’s throat, gushing with such pressure it almost made Mairon choke. His throbbing orgasm lasted for seconds, coming in several long pulses that filled Mairon’s mouth to the brim. He suckled his master all the way through, not missing a single drop of his precious seed. Once the waves subdued, Mairon smiled and licked his lips seductively, wiping himself on the back of his arm.

He had done it. He had survived the test. Now he could return back to his usual, flawless self, perfectly restrained and composed.

But as Mairon raised his gaze to meet his master’s eye, he saw no satisfaction there. Only a question.

“You think it is over, do you not?” Melkor asked, reaching out to stroke Mairon’s cheek. “No. Our audience is yet to arrive, after all.”

Mairon felt his heart thrum faster as he realized the weight of Melkor’s words, of what he was still planning to do.

He had been mistaken. It was far from over.

Mairon could do nothing but gasp, as Melkor’s hands pulled Mairon back onto his lap, so that he was once again facing the door. Just in time, since Mairon could sense their servants approaching, although he couldn’t see them yet.

And there he was, naked, thighs spread wide open in his master’s lap.

“Make yourself presentable, lieutenant”, Melkor said, tilting Mairon’s head to the side for a hungry kiss. Their lips clashed onto each other, sending sparks flying and making Mairon dizzy. “They are coming.”

Behind Mairon’s eyelids, the shadows and lights in the hallway flickered. He heard the thrumming of boots, the clattering of armor, the murmur of dozens of talking voices. It took all of Mairon’s concentration to conjure his spell again, while Melkor was still torturing him with kisses, sharp canines dragging across his throat.

When the horde finally entered, Gothmog at front, all they could see was their Lord sitting gracefully on his throne, his Lieutenant standing beside him.

“All hail Melkor”, Gothmog said, taking his place at the foot of the throne and bowing. “Lord of Utumno, Lord of Darkness, and High king of Arda.”

“Hail”, the entire hall echoed in unison, a hundred voices ringing out at once, as each and every soul in the hall kneeled in front of their lord. There were rows and rows of orcs and balrogs, of beautiful and powerful creatures Melkor had bent to his will and corrected. Just the sight made Mairon shiver.

He felt as if there was suddenly an invisible wall between them and the rest of the room. On the other side Mairon clearly felt his nakedness, the graze of Melkor’s teeth on his collarbones, biting hard enough to bruise. He felt Melkor’s cold hands on his lower hips, his pulsating erection aching for touch.

But none of this escaped Mairon’s illusion. Melkor smiled and licked his lips indulgently, enjoying the taste of blood mixing with the salt of his own cum.

“Arise”, he commanded, and every soul did. “I have gathered all of you here to inform you of a matter of utmost importance.”

Every one of them watched, as Melkor’s fingers moved downwards on Mairon’s hips, taking his member into his hand and drawing a shaky gasp from his lieutenant’s lips. Still, the illusion did not tear.

“All of you know Mairon, my most faithful servant and lieutenant”, Melkor spoke, stroking Mairon with one hand, taking the other to Mairon’s mouth and forcing it open. _Suck,_ he ordered with a thought, while still continuing his speech. “And from this day forth, the high commander of Angband.”

At that very moment, the high commander of Angband was eagerly licking on his master’s fingers in utter debauchery, cock leaking precum as Melkor ran his fingers along the Maia’s length. But to the outside observed they appeared perfectly still. Cold statues, impervious to the outside world.

“Swear fealty to your lord”, Melkor ordered.

Gothmog was the first one to kneel. He drew his sword, and its blade shone like fire. “My lord Mairon, I swear to serve you faithfully, from this day forth until the end of Arda.”

An orc commander followed, pulling up their long, barbed mace and laying it on the floor at the foot of the throne. “Lord Mairon, I swear allegiance to you, serving and executing your every command.”

Melkor hummed in satisfaction, watching as one subject after another fell on their knees in front of them. Just the sight seemed to make him aroused, as Mairon felt the Vala’s cock stiffen again beneath him. He allowed Mairon to suckle on his fingers a while longer, then pulling them out and guiding them to Mairon’s ass. He toyed on his entrance for a moment, feasting on the ragged breaths he pulled out from Mairon’s throat.

“Mairon”, the voices chanted now, almost in unison. “We swear fealty to you, Mairon.”

“Good”, Melkor murmured, and in unison with that word, breached Mairon with a single finger. Mairon cried out audibly, shocked by the sudden pain, the limited lubrication that his spit offered. Yet the only sound that escaped through his illusion was silence. “Now, lieutenant. Are there any words that you would wish to share with your loyal subjects?”

One finger changed to two, then three, and momentarily Mairon felt his illusion crack at the sides, the edges of the image vibrating like air on a hot summer day. Still, no-one seemed to notice, too occupied at bowing at his feet they were. Mairon knew he had to say something – anything – lest his subjects would grow suspicious. Melkor raised his brows in anticipation.

“I…” Mairon began: even the single word took every inch of his effort, with four of Melkor’s fingers pumping in rhythm with the hand on Mairon’s cock. They breached very deep now, brushing at a single spot in Mairon’s ass that made him see stars. He had to call upon his _fëa_ to warm himself up from the inside, and his entire body became sweaty, slippery in his master’s arms. “Ahhh…”

“Lieutenant?” Melkor asked in feigned concern. “Is everything fine?”

“Yes…” Mairon replied, sucking a deep breath through his nose. “Master…”

Mairon began to move his hips to meet the assault both at his ass and his cock, each thrust of fingers brushing at his prostrate. All the while he stretched out his _fëa_ to strengthen the illusion while he spoke out to address the crowd:

“I am grateful… For your fealty, and I swear…”

Mairon felt a familiar tightening in his abdomen, a heat building up in his crotch as he continued—

“I swear to lead you vigorously, for the glory of our lord _Melkor…”_

That last word was but a whimper as Melkor took him closer to the edge. _Come, Mairon,_ Melkor’s voice echoed in his head, as a thousand separate coaxing whispers. _Come for me, Mairon, come, lieutenant._

“You… may rise.”

The entire hall rose to their feet at once, lifting their weapons into the air as Melkor called out: “All hail Mairon, the Admirable, lieutenant of Melkor, and the high commander of Angband!”

“Hail!”

The ring of a hundred voices at once drowned out Mairon’s delirious moan, as he came hot and hard onto his master’s hand, cum sputtering from between the fingers onto Mairon’s chest. Waves of his pleasure blended onto the illusion, projecting out the deepest and most eager of wishes of all the onlookers before them – images of victory, conquest, and the defeat of their enemies.

“Look in front of you”, Melkor whispered in Mairon’s ear, as he stroked and fingered him to utter completion. “It is a good view, is it not? Soon all of this will be yours.”

And through his half-lidded eyelids, Mairon looked. The view in front of him was that of ecstasy, of utter devotion and servitude to a cause. And just looking at the sight made tears well in Mairon’s eyes, since he now understood what his master had meant, and what an honor he had bestowed upon him.

It was not holding that power himself that excited Mairon so, but the knowledge that he was pleasing his lord, acting in the name of a power greater than himself.

“You are dismissed”, Melkor addressed the hall.

His servants obeyed. All the while Mairon’s illusion still held, although he could no longer keep the sound from leaking out, his tired sobs and moans seeping through like water.

Finally the hall was empty, and Melkor pulled his fingers out, allowing Mairon to rest in his arms. The illusion shattered like glass, and an immense tiredness fell upon Mairon, almost causing him to lose consciousness. His master ran his fingers through his hair, pulling him tighter to his embrace, and lovingly kissing away the blood and semen that was spattered on his lieutenant’s body. Mairon had the strength to do naught but sigh, as he clung onto his master like his life depended upon him.

“I will take that as a yes for my request”, Melkor said, his gaze glazed with pleasure.

“Yes”, Mairon breathed. “Yes, master. I would do anything for you.”

“And I for you, my spark”, Melkor replied. “In Angband, I would have us rule as equals. There I would set my throne by your side, as all of Arda kneels before our power.”

“Our power.” Mairon knotted his fingers among Melkor’s own. “You honor me too greatly, my lord.”

“Your power is my power, and my power is yours.”

Mairon closed his eyes at those words, allowing himself to drift off for a moment, almost forgetting that he was still naked on his master’s throne, and that anyone could walk in at any moment.

“Do you think they noticed?” he asked tiredly, listening to the sound of Melkor’s heartbeat against his ear.

“No, my master illusionist. An act of so skillful would fool even the mightiest of Valar.” Melkor kissed Mairon’s forehead. “Such a feat deserves a sufficient reward, wouldn’t you think?”

Mairon opened his eyes. “Truly?”

Melkor grinned and rose up slowly from his throne, lifting Mairon into his arms.

“Come, now. Let us find some place more… private.”

And so, they did.


End file.
